


Talk Taxes To Me

by here4thereylo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, F/M, Fluff, Light Dirty Talk, Nothin but sexy times, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/here4thereylo/pseuds/here4thereylo
Summary: Ben has been Rey’s tax accountant for the last four years. Maybe this is the year they grow a little closer...Rey is finally no longer Ben's client. Whatever could happen???
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 62
Kudos: 317





	Talk Taxes To Me

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO! This is a very smutty one-shot to accompany my text fic, [Talk Taxes to Me!](https://twitter.com/here4thereylo/status/1235687881634713601) It can absolutely, 1000000% be read on its own as a one-shot, but that fancy link will take you to the very beginning of the text fic if you so desire!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy ;)

Rey flushes the toilet, aware she has to play the part even if she just escaped to text Rose. She traipses back down the hallway in her bare feet, her shoes long abandoned somewhere during hour two of the tax inquisition. He had been all business since she rang his ornate doorbell, bringing her into his in-home office and offering her a glass of water. Then it had been three long, grueling, torturous hours asking about charitable contributions and qualified business expenses and mileage reimbursements. The vein in her forehead throbs at the recollection of her afternoon.

When she returns to the office, she finds him hammering away at his keyboard. His suit jacket and tie were long discarded, and he’s unbuttoned the top two buttons on his collared shirt while she hid in the bathroom. She sits back down in the leather chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs and linking her hands together over her knee.

“Are we almost done?” She says, brushing an invisible speck of dust off the skirt of her sunflower-patterned sundress. He doesn’t answer right away, fingers clacking away at the keyboard for several more seconds before he looks up at her, his eyes raking over her seated form. 

“I need you to come sign,” he says, his voice impossibly deep.

“It’s electronic, can’t you just click the box for me?”

“Our software requires our clients to draw their signature in the alloted box,” he explains, leaning back in his seat to appraise her. She sighs, and stands up. Rey saunters over to the other side of the desk, where he’s seated. He’s barely moved back from his spot, leaving very little room for her to maneuver. She makes a show of glancing between him and the desk, planting her feet firmly next to his chair and leaning over his lap to reach for the mouse, left elbow resting on the desk for support. She hears a sharp intake of breath from him, and glances back at him with a wicked grin on her face.

Her ass is inches from his lap. She wiggles it slightly in the name of adjusting her stance, dragging his eyes from her face to her firm ass. She turns back to the computer, oh-so-slowly tracing the mouse along the mousepad, scrawling her name in the little box. She finishes signing, looking back at him to notice his eyes have not moved away from their spot on her rear end, and she suppresses a smile. She slowly, teasingly, backs away from the monitor, pointedly placing her hand on his thigh to brace herself as she resumes a standing position, and leans against the desk so she’s facing him. His eyes finally make their way up her figure, and she crosses her arms in amusement.

He clears his throat, shifting his gaze to the computer screen. He reaches over, clicks a few buttons, and sits back in his chair again.

“There. You’re filed. Federal and state.”

They share a heated look, staring at each other as the weight of what Ben just said settles over them. Rey bites her lip, and she swears Ben fidgets at the gesture.

“So, does that mean what I think it means? Sir?” Rey asks, daring her voice to not sound too hopeful.

“You’re no longer technically my client,” he responds, nodding slightly at the computer. “I talked to Hux this morning before my computer froze up.”

“Is that so?” She asks, the mischievous glint back in her eye. She drops her hands from where they were crossed, shedding her jean jacket swiftly and dropping it on the desk behind her. His legs were splayed already, and she steps between them, her feet moving of their own volition. She places her hands on his shoulders, and his hands involuntarily move to grip her hips. 

“Good,” she says simply. “Because I think I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

And she bends down to kiss him.

The hesitation is brief, nearly imperceptible before Ben returns the kiss with an unmatched enthusiasm. He attacks her mouth, arms circling her waist and clutching her closer to him so that she’s unbalanced on her feet, holding onto him to keep her upright.

She doesn’t stay there for long, choosing to straddle him, her dress riding up as she settles herself on his lap. His hands wander aimlessly now that they aren’t holding her to him, their tongues partaking in a fiery tango. She nips at his lower lip, and he growls animalistically and his hands travel to grab her ass, squeezing so tightly it elicits a squeal from her and she releases his mouth to gasp for air.

He heaves a breath as well, and she runs her hands through his hair as they stare into each other’s eyes.

“Rey, I…” he begins, and cuts himself off to clear his throat. The strap of her dress has fallen off her shoulder, and he’s distracted by the tiny extra bit of cleavage he’s able to glimpse as a result.

“What?” She asks innocently, caressing the tops of his pink-tipped ears.

“This may sound creepy and unprofessional but...I’ve imagined you so many times in this room,” he says, his deep timbre sending a shiver down her spine, the goosebumps running up her bare arms.

“Show me,” is all she says, before her lips meet his again.

Their kiss is urgent, untamed, each devouring the other as much as they can to make up for lost time. Ben’s hands don’t hesitate this time as they trace a path from where they were down her body; one to hold her waist and one to find its way underneath her sunflower dress. He brushes his finger lightly along her slit, over what he feels to be lace panties.

“Did you wear these just for me?” He murmurs, breaking away as he traces his finger up and down along the fabric, over her covered entrance, another involuntary shudder running down Rey’s spine as she takes in the feeling of him everywhere.

She whines, nodding her head in assent as he captures her lips again, preventing her from speaking, finger continuing to run up and down the scrap of lace. In an effortless motion, he moves the garment aside and slips a finger inside.

She breaks apart from his kiss and mutters a soft “oh!” of surprise, her eyes widening at the welcome intrusion.

He lets the finger adjust to her tight pussy, and he looks up into her eyes. “Too fast?” He asks, a wave of concern flitting over his features.

“No,” she breathes, stilling to adjust to the feeling of him inside her. He keeps his finger inside her immobile, but moves his thumb from wherever the fuck it was to circle her clit. The feeling is overwhelming, and she lowers her head to his shoulder as she succumbs to the sensation. The stretch is unlike any other she’s felt, and he’s only one finger deep inside her.

He circles her bundle of nerves slowly, in absolutely no hurry, keeping his finger unmoving inside her. They revel in the feeling of being close, of touching each other. For years they’ve danced around each other, escalated greatly in the last week with all the text messages they’ve exchanged. Rey is glad for them, glad for accidentally dropping her vibrator into her messy box of files--

The vibrator! 

Rey lifts her head off of his shoulder and twists around to reach for her jean jacket, the jostle bumping his finger against her inner walls and she emits a whine at the feeling. She scrabbles for the chain inside her jacket pocket, and Ben decides at that moment in her distracted state to start thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her. She has to pause for a minute, still twisted around and gripping the desk for stability as his change in attention begins to unravel her. She finally gets her bearings, finds the chain and whips it out of the pocket, spinning to return to face Ben.

She dangles it between them, holding the end of the necklace at eye level. She looks at him, smirk on her face, and his eyes darken at the sight. He releases his other hand from her hip to grab at it, expertly hitting the button to turn on the delicate toy. 

“How do you…” she asks, not even able to finish the thought as he removes his thumb from her bud and replaces it with the tip of the vibrator.

“It was buzzing in the box. Took me five minutes to figure out how to turn it off,” he answers the question she couldn’t articulate, withdrawing his finger nearly completely from her before plunging back in. Her hands are back on his shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt in her hands as she takes him, a small gasp escaping her. 

He moves the vibrator around, off her clit to tease her everywhere but where she really wants him to be touching. She stares down at his lap, her dress having been pushed up so he can reach without obstruction, and marvels at the size of his hands. They dwarf the toy, and she feels so delightfully  _ full _ at just the one finger.

As if he can hear her thoughts, he whispers to her “think you can handle two?” And slips another finger in before she can give an answer. She moans and shudders, accommodating him but she isn’t quite sure how. 

She closes the distance between them and kisses him fiercely, her tongue delving into his mouth as she moves her hips in time with his fingers, unable to keep still any longer as he exacts this beautiful torture on her cunt. She can feel him hard under her, preens at the thought that she is doing that to him, that he’s doing  _ this _ to  _ her _ , and as if on instinct he moves the vibrator back from its wandering pattern to the perfect spot on her clit and he curled his fingers inward to press against her inner walls. A few more seconds of this and she is about to--

The doorbell rings, and they both freeze.

It rings again.

Ben withdraws from her and lifts her off of him effortlessly, seating her on his desk.

“Fuck, that must be the Doordash guy,” he says. “Stay here.”

He stalks off, adjusting himself in his pants to try to hide the obvious erection as he goes to grab the food from the delivery person at the door.

This is a first for Rey. She’s been cockblocked by Chipotle.

She keeps sitting on his desk, contemplating writing a strongly worded letter to Chipotle and Doordash about their terrible timing when Ben bursts back into the room. He’s empty-handed, and she assumes he dropped the food off in the kitchen. 

He quickly walks back around the desk, and she’s eager to clamber back on top of him when he throws her off her game  _ again  _ and kneels down in front of the desk instead. He places his hands on her calves, stopping the swinging motion she had been doing, and slowly spreads her legs apart. The other strap of her dress has fallen down too now, and she briefly considers if she should have tightened the straps because  _ they always do that  _ but right now she doesn’t give a damn.

He slowly,  _ slowly  _ traces his hands up her legs, pushing her skirt back up and out of his way. When he gets to her knees, he lifts one hand and finds her stomach, pushing her gently. She gets the hint immediately, and lies back on the desk. Luckily he’s a minimalist, and she’s out of the way of the monitor and keyboard, and nothing else obstructs her path as she rests her back against the cool wood.

His hand not on her stomach finishes it’s journey up her legs, teasing up her inner thigh and she shudders at the featherlight touch, her skin pebbling with goosebumps as he brushes the faintest of touches over her center again, but not lingering. Instead, he grabs her lace panties, urging her to lift her hips slightly so he can pull them down and off, discarding them without a glance as to where he tosses them.

He’s eye level with her cunt, and she squirms under his appreciative gaze. He distantly hears the buzzing of the vibrator somewhere on the floor around him, discarded without care when he went to answer the door. He’s unconcerned with it now, able to devour her with his eyes now before he devours her in every way he can.

He had been up on his knees, kneeling to reach her hips and stomach, and sinks back so he’s resting on his haunches. She starts to close her legs, fidgety from the attention but he grips her knees to stop her. He wordlessly spreads them back open, taking in her glistening pink slit in all its glory.

“Goddamn, Rey,” he breathes, taking the finger that was inside her minutes ago and tracing through her folds. “You’re so damn perfect.”

She whimpers, squirming now from his touch in addition to his praise.

“And so wet for me.” He joins another finger with his first, sliding back into her heat and she releases a contented sigh. His other hand releases her knee and palms himself, needing to relieve some of the pressure as he lavishes his focus fully on her. 

He’s finger fucking her in earnest now, crooking his fingers inside her and hitting her inner walls at deep, perfect angles so it doesn’t take her long to reach the high she was at when Doordash ruined the mood.

He decides to up the ante some more, and kneels back up, removing his fingers from her once again. She whimpers at the loss, a weak “Bennn” coming out of her mouth in a whine that he keeps edging her.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he croons to her. He releases himself from his hand, and hooks both hands under her knees and yanks her so her ass is resting on the edge of the desk. His mouth hovers over her mound, and he exhales a breath to tease her.

“Ben,” she squeaks out, “stop fucking teasing me.” She reaches her hand down to touch herself, and he swats it away.

“Okay,” he says simply, and runs the flat of his tongue starting from her entrance up to her clit, circling the bud while his two fingers resume their position and begin to fuck her again. She moans loudly, the feeling of his tongue on her and the fullness inside her bringing her to new heights. She’s been on edge for what feels like one hundred hours and it doesn’t take very long with his mouth on her to creep towards the edge again.

When he sucks her clit into his mouth, his relentless fingers moving inside her, she finally reaches her peak and comes with a scream. She slaps her hand over her mouth, and he helps her ride out her high; lazily stroking his fingers in and out while he continues to lave at her. Her cunt pulses slightly from the aftershocks, and soon enough she’s reaching for his head to push him away.

He obliges, and stands. She stays strewn across his desk, boneless and unable to move. She’s breathing heavily, and he drinks in the sight of her. He braces himself against the desk, a hand on either side of her middle, and bends down to kiss her squarely on the mouth. Her hands shoot straight into his hair, clutching him to her as she tastes herself on his tongue.

She only releases him when she can’t breathe any longer, and they stare at each other with goofy smiles on their faces, millimeters apart so they’re essentially sharing the same breath back and forth between them.

His hand wanders again, the same one that’s been inside her, and yanks the dress down just enough to expose her tit. It’s simple enough, her strap hasn’t been on her shoulder properly for at least three hours, since before she even took the damn jacket off. He runs his hand over her now exposed skin, tweaking the nipple as he kisses her again passionately. She melts into his touch, his embrace, squirming again at the stimulation he’s giving her. She wants to return the favor, and tries to reach for his belt, but he’s  _ just _ far enough away that she can’t reach.

He can tell exactly what she’s going for, and he releases her breast and mouth with a chuckle. 

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, Rey?” He asks, and he grinds his clothed front against her bare cunt, again trying to relieve the aching erection he had been fiercely ignoring in favor of doing everything he had dreamed about doing to Rey since the moment she walked into his office four years ago.

She rolls her hips with him, giving him the friction he needs, and god it’s good even if he’s not directly touching her skin to skin. He groans, eyes rolling back into his head, hands still on the desk on either side of her.

“Probably about as long as I’ve wanted it,” she says back, the feeling of his slacks against her folds with the added texture of his zipper causing her to buck her hips slightly, her oversensitive sex still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm she’s just experienced by his hand.

He stands upright again, pulling her arms gently so that she rises up to a sitting position on the desk as well. The dress is bunching up around her waist, and he lifts her arms up in the air. She obeys, leaving them elevated when he releases his hold, and he pulls the dress off her and chucks it somewhere on the floor, to join her panties and the vibrator. He doesn’t hear it anymore, and he assumes it must have a pretty short battery life.

“I have imagined you...just about everywhere in this house, Rey. How you’d look in my bed.” His hands continue to move of their own volition, as if he can’t control what they do, and he runs a hand through her hair, down her jawline, and she closes her eyes and hums at the attention. “You on this very desk. You in my shirt, in the kitchen.” He starts to punctuate each sentence with a kiss in different places. First, her mouth. Then her collarbone. The middle of her chest, all while his hands are roaming.

“What took you so long?” She asks, opening her eyes again and letting her hands join in their little wandering game. She loves the way his hair feels, and she spends most of her time running her hands through it, holding onto his head as he bestows soft kisses all over her body.

“Our working relationship.” Another kiss. “That you were unattainable. Too beautiful to exist. Too good for me.”

She jerks her hand, pulling him by his hair away from her to look him in the face. “I think it’s you who is too good for  _ me _ ,” she said, pulling him in for another kiss. This one is tender, gentle, and full of emotion. 

She breaks off first, and smiles. “But I didn’t mind the part where you called me beautiful.” 

She uses the proximity and the distraction to trail her hand down his front. He’s been achingly hard for awhile now, determined to ignore his own needs in favor of her own and she decides she can’t have that anymore. With one deft hand, the other curled in his dark locks, she unbuttons the slacks and slides down the zipper. He hisses when she reaches in and pulls him out, his cock springing free. The tip is angry, red, and already leaking precum. She looks down, her eyes widening at the sight of him. 

“Holy damn,” she says, grasping his shaft and rolling her thumb around the tip, spreading the beads of precum. She has a loose hold on him, slowly stroking up and down. He makes inhuman noises at her motions, and now it’s his turn to rest his forehead on her shoulder while she strokes him firmly. “I want this inside me.”

His breath stutters when he hears her utter those words; every single one of his most desperate dreams have come true with this woman, naked on his desk giving him the hottest hand job of his life while he stands there, fully clothed. He pulls his head back from her shoulder to stare at her in wonder.

“Really?” He asks. She rolls her eyes and gives his cock a squeeze and he almost comes right then and there.

“Of course, really. I’m the one who’s made a fool of herself sending you risky texts.” It’s her turn for confessions. “I’ve had so many office fantasies since meeting you. I’ve gotten wet from fucking phone calls we’ve had. No one has ever made the Earned Income tax credit sound  _ sexy _ before.” 

His one functioning brain cell chooses that moment to chime in with, “you don’t even qualify for that credit are you sure we’ve talked--” and she cuts him off with a kiss.

“Ben Solo, you’ve ruined me. You’re the only person I’ve wanted for ages.” 

The smile on his face is pure sunshine. He can’t believe she’s said those words, and it’s like his whole world has been lit up. 

“This is probably the best case scenario at how this day could have gone,” he murmurs, and she laughs.

“Are you going to fuck me, or what?” She’s still got a hold of his dick, and rubs it through her folds. She’s still wet, and he moans at the feeling of her against him. 

“I have condoms...somewhere…” his brain is addled, words not calculating right in his mind to speak them coherently.

“Ben, I want to  _ feel _ you. I have an IUD. I am squeaky clean, and I’m tired of waiting.”

He chokes as she rubs him against her center again, the sensation otherworldly. 

“I’m clean too,” he just manages to get out. “Honestly haven’t touched anyone since I met you.” 

She melts into the most dazzling smile he’s ever seen on her, and she can’t help but kiss him again.

“Good. Then what are you waiting for?” 

“I’ve waited four years to have you, Rey. I’m not doing it for the first time on my desk.” 

Before she can speak, he’s lifted her off his desk and got her in a bridal carry. She squeals in delight, some rational voice in the back of her head is excited to see the rest of his house; his home office is on the front of the house just inside the foyer, and she didn’t get a grand tour when she arrived.

He carries her up the stairs as if she weighs nothing, and enters an elaborate master bedroom. No way was it decorated by him, probably some interior designer, but Rey marvels at the soft gray wall color and black bedspread. She didn’t think black would work as a bedding color, but it definitely works and feels so good on her bare skin as Ben drops her into the center of his California King.

She giggles, and immediately sprawls out on the bed, lifting her hands above her head. She bites her lower lip while he just stands there, dick hanging out of his slacks as he drinks her in.

“Someone is overdressed, and it’s not very fair,” she teases, a squirming mess at the anticipation at what is  _ finally _ about to happen. 

He can’t deny her anything, so off go his pants and boxers, swiftly followed by his collared shirt. It’s her turn to drink him in, and she goes slack-jawed as she takes him all in.

He’s almost embarrassed by her eyes on him, and he palms the back of his neck, trying to hide his face.

“Get over here and kiss me,” she says, and he doesn’t hesitate any longer before launching himself on the bed. He hovers over her, caging her in, and devours her mouth again. Her hand goes straight back to his cock, resuming the attention she was giving him there moments earlier in his home office.

He releases her mouth and leans back slightly, just out of reach and she loses her grip on him. She pouts, but he cuts in before she can say anything.

“If you keep touching me like that, I’m not even going to make it inside you,” he says plainly.

“Well then get inside me.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

So he does.

He enters slowly. She’s relaxed from her orgasm, and still miraculously wet, but the stretch is just on the edge between pleasure and pain and she feels so full and happy it’s like she’s finally reached Nirvana.

He makes his way home inside her, bottoming out and they both sigh in contentment, foreheads touching. She can’t help but pepper him with several chaste kisses to his plush lips while she adjusts to the feel of him inside her. One hand lifts to caress his face, pushing a lock of hair away from his eyes.

“Ben,” she whispers. He hums in acknowledgement. 

“You’re allowed to move now.” 

To emphasize, both her hands move from where they were to grab his ass, rolling her hips simultaneously. He swears, and takes the hint. He draws back slowly, so far that only the tip of him is at her entrance, and slides back in at the same agonizing pace.

“You feel heavenly, Rey,” he marvels at how her cunt hugs his cock, the most perfect fit imaginable. She’s so tight, so  _ small _ , but she takes him so expertly, like she was made for him. And maybe she was.

Only after a half-dozen times of him easing in and out of her, she whimpers for him to go faster, a squeeze of his ass accompanying her pleas. Helpless to deny her of anything, he snapped his hips in an urgent thrust, effectively doubling his pace. They both moan in unison, the tip of his cock reaching so deep inside her she swears she feels him in her stomach.

He can’t stop kissing her, but they’re both out of breath and the kisses are sloppy, and he bears his weight completely on his left arm so that his right is free to play with her breast. He swallows each little mewl and moan she makes, and she rolls her hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Jesus  _ fuck _ , Ben, I--” she babbles, all coherent thoughts escaping her as she gives in to the feeling of him everywhere. She’s surrounded by his touch, his scent and this is everything she’s wanted for the last four years. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he coaxes more mewls out of her as he buries his head in her neck, licking and sucking and she knows she’ll have to use concealer there tomorrow to hide the hickeys but she doesn’t care because it feels incredible while he pounds into her, never letting up. He squeezes her nipple and she cries out in ecstasy, creeping closer and closer to another orgasm. She’s never had two in one day and she’s not quite sure how he’s making it possible.

“I’m close, Ben, oh my god,” she keens, and he wastes no time moving his hand from his nipple to her clit, furiously rubbing the bud there in tight circles. Her noises grow louder, and Ben can feel her inner walls start to clench harder around him. He desperately wants to close his eyes, give in to the feeling of her, but he’s waited so long he wants to see her face when she comes.

He wants to be the one to make her come. 

The only one to make her come ever again.

He lifts up from where he had been sucking at the juncture of her neck and shoulder to stare down at her. He’s slightly unbalanced, all his weight on his one arm and his thrusts were becoming erratic but he manages to hold on. He stops playing with her nub and she groans in half frustration, half at the loss of his touch but he takes her leg not pinned by him and lifts it over his shoulder to rest on his back.

The new angle is the missing piece, and only seconds after his fingers return to her clit, coupled with his relentless thrusts, she barrels right over the edge and comes so hard she sees stars. He watches her come undone under him, and he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

He pulls away from her bundle of nerves and balances himself back on both arms, burying his head back into her neck as he fucks her even faster through her orgasm. She’s so blissed out, so full of him and it only takes him a handful more thrusts before he stills and spills into her. His warm spend inside her adds to the overall feeling of being wrapped up in a Ben Solo blanket, and she never wants to move from this spot ever again.

He collapses onto his side, unable to keep himself aloft anymore. In a single motion rolls all the way to his back, grabbing Rey around the waist so she’s snuggled into his chest, his softening cock still buried inside her heat.

Their breathing slows in tandem, and he softly strokes his hand up and down her back as they bask in the afterglow. She drops a couple soft kisses to his chest, and then looks up at him with adoration in her eyes.

“About damn time,” she teases, a cheeky grin on her face. He chuckles and kisses the top of her head.

“About damn time,” he echoes. She starts to doze off, soothed by his back and forth touch down her back, until she sits up suddenly in a panic, hand braced against his chest.

“The Chipotle!” She cries. “We just left it! It’s probably gone bad now.”

Ben laughs in earnest as he finally pulls out from her, nestling her back into the covers and hopping out of the bed to sneak into the ensuite bathroom for a washcloth.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I stuck it in the fridge.” She sighs in relief as he saunters back into the room, climbing onto the bed and stealing her lips into another heated kiss while he swipes the washcloth in some semblance of cleanup.

He tosses it onto the nightstand, and settles down on his side. He clutches her to him, back to front, and they both release a happy sigh.

“I’m never gonna leave this bed,” she whispers to him, a smirk on her face he can’t quite see since he’s pressed his nose into her hair. She snuggles impossibly closer to him, and all too soon they both drift off to sleep.


End file.
